


Five O'Clock

by eveningsoother (WhichWolfWins)



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Beards (Facial Hair), Bottom John, Fluff, Johncroft, M/M, Rimming, Top Mycroft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-17
Updated: 2015-03-17
Packaged: 2018-03-18 06:14:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3559112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhichWolfWins/pseuds/eveningsoother
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Since they're on vacation, John asks Mycroft not to shave the beard. Porn ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five O'Clock

**Author's Note:**

> I have a deep love of Mark Gatiss and Martin Freeman with beards; I think it increases their appeal seven-fold for me. So, of course I had to write John and Mycroft sporting them, too!
> 
> The lovely phipiohsum475 made a gifset of this fic for me [here](http://phipiohsum475.tumblr.com/post/117216853563/a-gif-set-for-eveningsoother-for-her-fic-five)! What a sweetheart! :D

When John wakes up, it’s to an empty bed. He stretches out into the bare space where his partner was fairly recently, judging by the warmth still captured in the sheets, groaning in pleasure at the feeling of stretching relaxed muscles.

He’s on the brink of falling back asleep in the tangle of blankets when he hears the sound of something thumping in the adjoining bathroom and peeks open an eye toward the doorway. The curtains are drawn in their rooms, casting a dim, pale green glow across the floor, but it’s mostly dark. The only light in the bathroom is coming from a single dim bulb above the sink. It brings into stark relief Mycroft’s reflection in the mirror, but the rest of him, his body in front of the mirror, is completely shaded, a black silhouette in the door frame. 

John smiles at the sight of Mycroft in a white v-neck tee and white pants with thin, pale grey pinstripes down their length. He can’t resist giving up the warmth of the covers to drag his sleepy-heavy body out of bed and cross the room to wrap his arms around Mycroft’s middle. He lays his head down against the back of Mycroft’s shoulder for a brief moment, hugging him from behind. Mycroft quickly relaxes against him. 

Smelling shaving cream, John peers around Mycroft’s arm to look at his reflection in the mirror. “What are you doing?” he asks, frowning at the sight of the white foam covering the newly grown scruff on Mycroft’s jawline. 

“Shaving,” Mycroft answers, putting his fingers under the running water and rinsing away the foam on his fingers before he reaches for one of the blades in his roll out shaving kit. 

“Ah!” John moves quickly, covers Mycroft’s hand with his over the set of shiny blades. “No shaving allowed.” 

He can’t really see Mycroft’s mouth within all the foam, but his eyebrows have an excellent way of portraying his feelings, enough to tell John that Mycroft is not amused. 

“What are you on about now?” Mycroft asks, meeting John’s eyes in the mirror. All the sunlight they’ve been getting has brought out the freckles on Mycroft’s skin, peppering them across each slender line of his face. 

“I don’t think you should shave today,” John explained, tucking his chin on Mycroft’s shoulder, pressing a kiss into the fabric of Mycroft’s soft shirt. “In fact, I don’t think you should shave at all on this trip.” 

Mycroft’s brows furrowed and he turned in the small space between the sink and John’s body, pressing them front to front. “Why?” he asked, his eyes alight with both amusement and curiosity. 

“You’re supposed to be relaxing. You don’t have to look all spiffy for anyone. There are no politicians or whathaveyou to impress here. Just me,” John said, “and I like the scruff.” 

Mycroft frowned for a thoughtful moment before turning back to the mirror and looking at himself, tilting his foam covered chin this way and that, then his eyes returned back to John and he released a sigh before reaching for the taps. John stood and watched as Mycroft went about rinsing the foam quickly down the drain. 

“Alright then,” Mycroft said, once he was finished, accepting the washcloth John handed him. “If I’m not going to shave on this trip, then neither will you.” 

“Fine,” John shrugged, not even bothered. 

“And...” Mycroft continued, hanging the cloth back up and turning to face John, rough chin and all. He pressed in close, putting him flush against John. “You’re going to let me fuck you.” 

Mycroft held his breath as John’s eyes dropped from his and he suddenly became very interested in the shape of Mycroft’s toenails. 

“John,” Mycroft said, catching John’s chin and tilting his head up until John finally met his gaze again. He brushed his knuckles over the stubble on John’s jaw line and bent to kiss his nose. “I like it,” he whispered, blue eyes bright and heated. 

John licked his lips, feeling suddenly very aware of their proximity to each other. He reached up and cupped Mycroft’s chin with his fingers and brought him down for a kiss. “Alright,” he murmured against Mycroft’s lips. “Okay.” 

Long fingers found their way into John’s hair and cradled his head as he opened his mouth to Mycroft. He pressed into him, holding him against the sink so he could snog him for all he was worth. 

Mycroft’s tongue was a warm, efficient thing as it tangled with John’s and his lips were equally so; John had never kissed someone so very /good/ at kissing before. 

John reached for the band of Mycroft’s pale boxers and slipped his hands underneath the fabric to cup his hands around Mycroft’s pert bum. It was a shame Mycroft didn’t wear better fitted suits, as his looser trousers concealed how very well endowed Mycroft was in the arse department. 

John withdrew his tongue and ran his lips slowly back and forth over the sharp scruff of Mycroft’s chin before murmuring against his carotid artery. “Would you like to fuck me now?” 

His partner took a dramatic breath, making John laugh as he brought him flush against his chest to kiss him more thoroughly, as if that were even possible. “I would be delighted.” 

Mycroft leaned against him, urging him to leave the bathroom for the comfort of the bed, all the while stroking his thumbs across the stubble gracing John’s jaw. 

John toppled backward onto the plush bed and was followed quickly after by Mycroft, who knelt on one knee to keep his weight off John, but his body covered him from head to toe. 

“Come on, Mycroft,” John said, tugging on his white shirt. “Fuck me already.” 

“In due time,” Mycroft responded. He pulled away and John found a mischievous twinkle in Mycroft’s eye before the gorgeous man leant down and licked his chin in one long stripe. 

It startled a laugh out of John, but he also found it oddly arousing, Mycroft being like this, and his laughter petered out into a moan. 

“God, Mycroft, please fuck me.” 

“Mmm,” Mycroft hummed as he bit gently at John’s chin, running his tongue back and forth over his scruff. His hands slipped beneath John’s shirt and pulled it up over his head. He discarded it on the floor before returning his hands to slide down John’s chest as he licked and nipped at John’s chin until he reached his dark gray pants. He tugged them down to mid-thigh, just enough for his hands to find John’s quickly thickening cock. 

John giggled as Mycroft’s teeth trailed down his neck, his tongue laving over the rough hair. “What’s gotten into you?” 

“Certainly not you,” Mycroft murmured, eyes crinkling at the corners. He pressed a smile to John’s neck and wrapped his slender fingers around his cock. “I’m…” 

“Happy?” John asked, a warmth blooming in his belly that only had a little bit to do with Mycroft’s slick, slender fingers pulling him off. 

In response, Mycroft turned to John’s right nipple and reached out with his tongue to lave over the taut, pink peak. 

John gasped as Mycroft tilted his head and rubbed his chin across John’s sensitive nipple, causing his cock to give a very interested twitch. 

Mycroft chuckled at the movement and looked up at John as he slid the rest of the way down his body, his chin charting a hot trail across belly. John groaned and turned his eyes to the ceiling; he wasn’t going to survive this, was he? 

Smiling, Mycroft tugged John until his legs were dangling over the foot of the bed, then sank to his knees in front of him to work his boxers off the rest of the way. He took John’s cock back into his hand and with his expert tongue, began to lick a path down his throbbing member down to John’s balls. 

John cried out as Mycroft’s chin grazed over his balls and had to bite his fist as Mycroft licked his way back up to collect the drops of precome already decorating the tip of his cock. 

“Can I proceed?” 

John looked down his body at Mycroft between his legs and swallowed at the sight. “Um…” 

“It’s only fair I return the favor,” Mycroft said, amusement sparkling in his eye. 

John dropped his head back on the pillow and contemplated at the ceiling. Could he really have someone’s bloody tongue up his arse? Well, he had had his own tongue… 

“Alright,” John sighed. “Just… do it.” 

Mycroft’s head popped up and he raised his signature eyebrow at John. “Well, now I don’t want to do it if you’re only going to be suffering through it.” 

John giggled and rolled his eyes. “Go on,” he said, nudging at Mycroft with his foot. “I want you to, Mycroft.” 

With a look of doubt, Mycroft sank back down and hitched John’s legs up until his knees were hooked over his shoulders. “Now, let us see if you’ll ever want me to stop,” Mycroft said, his breath gusting across John’s hole and making him squirm. With that, Mycroft bent down and went to work. 

His tongue was strong and warm as it lapped at John, laving over the ripple of his tight hole. Just the feeling of it brushing /there/ was enough for John’s balls to draw up taut and he buried his face in his hands in embarrassment. 

“Christ,” he groaned. 

Mycroft laughed and a moment later John’s breath hitched as he felt the tip of his tongue catch on the rim of his hole. Mycroft prodded at him, peeking his tongue into John’s hole and drawing back out to lap and him, kiss at his damp skin. By the time Mycroft had inched his tongue fully in, John was a wriggling mess, gripping the sheets to keep from pulling at Mycroft’s hair and trying to get more where there wasn’t any. 

“Fuck me,” John groaned, stunned by how much he was enjoying this. 

Mycroft pulled away and John whimpered at the loss, pressing his heels into Mycroft’s back to urge him back to where he was wanted most. 

“You’re going to make me come, John, and I haven’t even gotten undressed yet,” Mycroft said, rising to stand. His cock stood out prominently in his pants, a slightly dark patch dampening the white where the head of his cock stretched the fabric. 

“Come here and let me fix that.” 

Sinking onto the bed, Mycroft returned to John and John greeted him by pulling his shirt up his back and off him. He threw it somewhere out of sight and stretched up to catch Mycroft’s damp lips with his, to tangle his tongue with Mycroft’s as he slid his hands down to Mycroft’s bum and pulled him down on top of him. 

“I want you to fuck me now,” John said, his lips feeling raw where they had been rubbing against Mycroft’s scruff. “Mycroft.” 

Nodding, Mycroft pushed his pants down his legs. He found he was suddenly nervous; he’d never been on this end of things, either. He knew, however, that this was much harder for John, so he tried not to rush things, despite John’s urging heels. 

Pressing the damp head of his cock to John’s hole, Mycroft slowly eased inside of him, holding John’s sides as he sank in. He could feel the fast rise and fall of John’s chest beneath his hands and knew he was trying to put on a brave face against the disconcerting intrusion. He groaned, he moaned, he gritted his teeth, but through it all, he urged Mycroft on with his hands on his arse. 

When Mycroft was fully seated, he bent down to receive John’s hungry kisses, kissed him back in return, and gently, very gently, begin to withdraw and press back into him. 

Another groan and John tightened his hold, tried to bring Mycroft in even deeper. His tongue delved into Mycroft’s mouth like he wanted Mycroft’s cock to move inside of him, but there was only so deep he could go. 

Drawing back, Mycroft decided to up the ante and thrust into John in one smooth move. 

John’s breath caught and he wriggled his arse, trying to guide Mycroft’s cock to his prostate. Realizing this, Mycroft withdrew and nailed the target with the next thrust. Soon, his heartbeat began to speed up with his hips and Mycroft found himself pistoning into John, grazing against his prostate with each one. To put it simply, he was fucking John. 

“Mycroft,” John gasped, his voice sounding strained. “Fucking hell!” 

The pleasure that had been building up inside of him since he’d pressed his tongue to John’s hole was increasing, bunching up like a coil ready to spring. Just when he opened his mouth to warn John he was about to come, John whimpered from yet another thrust into his prostate and came in jets of white across his stomach. 

Mycroft’s mouth fell open at the site of John coming nearly untouched and his own orgasm exploded through his veins in just a few more feeble thrusts. He felt his nipples tighten and his whole body shuddered as he came deep inside of John, John’s throbbing hole milking him for all he was worth. 

With a sigh of exhaustion, Mycroft fell over John and barely managed to catch himself to flip over and keep from smothering John beneath his heated body. Their gasps for air filled the softly glowing room as they came down from their high, the sweat cooling on their bodies as the come did on John’s. 

After their hearts slowed to normal resting speed, John turned to Mycroft. “That was…” 

“Good?” Mycroft supplied, turning to John with a knowing smile. 

“Brilliant,” John corrected, a grin splitting across his lips. “You were bloody brilliant.” 

Mycroft’s cheeks warmed at the praise and he turned over onto his side to place his hand on John’s rough cheek. “You were, as well, John,” he murmured, then he bent down and pressed a kiss against the scruff nearest him. 

John chuckled and opened his arm for Mycroft to move in against his side so he could lay his head on John’s shoulder. Soon, John had drifted off to sleep with his nose buried in Mycroft’s hair, leaving his partner to ponder the night to come, wondering just what John had planned for when he asked Mycroft to marry him.

**Author's Note:**

> I have a Johncroft blog, which you can find [here](mycroftandjohn.tumblr.com), and my main tumblr is [here](eveningsoother.tumblr.com).
> 
> I hope you liked the fic! If you want more Johncroft, tell me what you're looking for! Thank you for reading! :)


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